Explosion
by Musings of a Shaken Mind
Summary: He fights. As he fights, he chokes, and as he chokes, he’s dying. But it means nothing. Because if he fails in this, he forfeits any desire to live.' A OneShot dedicated to those who died that day, both figuratively and literally.
1. Chapter 1

**It's late-- nearly a month late, in fact. But it's here. For everyone who died on September 11th, 2001. Both figuratively and literally. God bless. **

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"NO!"

He fights. As he fights, he chokes, and as he chokes, he's dying. But it means nothing. Because if he fails in this, he forfeits any desire to live.

"No, Bella… NO! BELLA!"

The smoke is thicker now. It draws him in. It's terrifying. And if it is terrifying for him, he can only imagine what it must be like for the woman he is attempting to rescue.

The woman he loves.

He can hear muffled cries from elsewhere in the building, but he can't stop. Any other time, he would, but not now. Someone will come. Someone else must save them; he can do nothing for them now. They watched as the first tower fell. They knew a second plane would try to do the same to the second tower, but they never imagined it would be like this.

An explosion. It seems far away, though the heat of the flame curls the hair on his neck. It burns, but he is uncaring, as he staggers drunkenly towards the door. He can hear her now, and he knows she is terrified. The thought of her rendered so utterly alone and petrified sickens him. The pain of losing her would be a thousand, a million times worse than the burn of his injuries. They do not hinder him. He walks on a broken leg, splinters of glass shredding the soles of his bare feet. He feels no pain, other than hers.

He reaches the door, and does not hesitate. The blow that his fist delivers sends the already-weakened door crumpling away, and her high-pitched scream pierces his ears.

"Bella… Bella, it's me… BELLA!"

She is in his arms, and they are choking together. Dying together.

Tears run down her face, as she grips his forearms, her lips desperately seeking his. They meet, and share a passionate kiss. His right hand comes to rest on the curve of her stomach, and she rests her hand on his, his ring sparkling morbidly in the firelight. It seems to burn, burns on the fourth finger of her left hand.

"Edward… you came…"

"Of course I came, love… How could I not?"

"I… I love you…"

It's too late. They're dying. As the force of an aeroplane smashes the side of the building, all he can do is whisper his final words to her.

Somehow, above the noise of the explosion, she hears him.

"I love you, my Bella…"

Their world explodes.


	2. Epilogue

**Originally a one-shot, but I wasn't happy with the ending, so this is a bit of an epilogue. And it's not entirely impossible, so shut up. Think of it as a Christmas freaking miracle.**

**Merry Christmas, all!**

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****E X P L O S I O N  
A **_**Twilight**_** FanFiction  
By Becky Scarlett-Cullen**

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****Epilogue**

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**The sun shines brightly over the grass, and the trees sway idyllically in the light breeze. It's a rare sunny, smogless day in New York City.

Thousands, millions are gathered. But there's no sound, other than the wind as it rushes between high-rise buildings, ripping down streets. The few, wispy clouds above race across the sky, vying for first place in their eternal competition.

A platform at the head of the crowd is raised, with a few important-looking people sat upon it. Behind them, the empty space where once there were high-powered buildings serves as a reminder to all, as if they needed reminding.

As the two minutes of silence draws to an end, the crowd stay so. Each and every person there knows someone affected by this tragedy, this disaster. And the effect of that is showing now. Silent tears are shed by fathers, mothers and children alike. They cry for ones that they lost on the fateful day.

The silence ends, and the Mayor of New York City stands. There's no need to gesture for silence, but he does so anyway, standing before millions of grieving people.

He delivers a speech, and there's polite applause, but no words can mitigate for the horror that has been caused.

Among the crowds, there's a family. A family, not bound by blood, but by marriage and disaster. There's the Cullens. The Hales. The McCartys, and the Swans. They hold hands, and they cry together, for Bella and Edward. For the child that they lost, for the tragedy they withstood. They knew that they wee lucky, though; other people they knew had lost everyone.

And they still had each other.

A fire-fighter stands, and he, too, makes a speech. But more people listen this time. This is a man who was at the forefront. He fought the fires, and he's been there every day since, searching desperately for bodies among the wreckage. He's barely eaten, he's barely slept. This is a man who has given everything.

He tells a story. It's a story of a man who showed such heroism on that dreadful day. It's a hopeful tale; the idea that one man could display such bravery in the face of such evil is astonishing.

It's a tale, like so many others. It has people weeping where they stand. Because everyone has heard the stories already.

And then, tow people step forward. It's a man; he has his arm around his pregnant wife. He's lost a leg, and she's lost an arm. Both are scarred. They always will be. These are survivors. Dug from the debris nearly twenty-four hours after the initial attacks. Somehow, they survived everything.

They smile, and they bless America. But not just America, because the whole world is watching. These two are lucky. They survived. But others did not.

The man steps forward, and he tells his story.

"_I was terrified for my Bella, but I couldn't go and find her, there were too many others. I must have pulled hundreds from the wreckage, but I couldn't help them any more than that, and for that I am sorry. Eventually, my floor was clear… but I hadn't found my Bella. I ran up the stairs calling her name, but the smoke was too thick… I thought I'd never find her… but, somehow, I did… we were buried by the building, and we must have been there for hours, though it felt like much longer. I held her the whole time, and she kept me sane. I was only able to survive until they found us because of her."_

She smiles up at him, though the tears glisten in her eyes. He smiles at her, and it's an expression of hope. They sit down, as everyone in the crowd lights a candle. The flickering of each flame lights the darkening sky, and it's beautiful.

America has suffered, but now there's hope.


End file.
